


Simplicity and Shadows

by xUnchartedDreams



Category: One Piece
Genre: Actually Frequent Angst, Alternate Universe - High School, Black Humor, Coming of Age, Deconstruction and Lampshade hanging of High school tropes, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Guilty Pleasure moments, High School Tropes, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I will try to keep some of the characters' original traits, Luffy's stupidity, Mentions and Instances of Rape/Attempted Rape, Multi, OOC-ness, Occasional angst, Occasional hotness, Occasional inappropriate commentary on sensitive topics, Occasionally not so innocent fluff, Or not, Romance, Spicy Moments, Teenage Shenanigans that go on during adolescence, Themes Teens and Young Adults would identify with, Touches upon mental disorders, You Have Been Warned, but for some characters i wil place a greater emphasis on other parts, eh depends lol, mentions of child abuse, occasional cursing, of their personality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xUnchartedDreams/pseuds/xUnchartedDreams
Summary: Having spent the majority of her adolescence as a child laborer to a cruel, remorseless legal guardian, it's safe to say that Nami's life hasn't been… easy. So what will she do when she finds herself wrapped up in a new kind of personal hell, or as she likes to put it- "the place where self-esteem, innocence, and dreams go to die"- high school?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters. I am just a fan who needs to probably get her wild imagination under control a little bit. That should be obvious, seeing as--- well, come on, would I really be posting this here if it weren’t a fan work? But hey, better safe than sorry~ You never know, someone could get confused. ;P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado, welcome, readers, to my first story on this account! This story in particular is one that I’ve been thinking about writing ever since I was fifteen, but never got around to writing until, well, recently. I won’t go into too many details about what it’s about, but, the premise itself should be enough to understand the general gist of it. All I can say is that, my goal with this fic is to write something that’s a bit darker that most high school fics, but that at the same time, doesn’t shy away from the moments that make our adolescence great. The story takes a turn for the darker later on and ultimately becomes a deconstruction of the standard high school fic you find on this site. (Several tropes; such as the ‘Alpha Bitch’, ‘Adults are useless’, for example, will be TORN TO SHREDS IN THIS FIC HAHA.) That being said, it still acknowledges and embraces its status as a high school fic, which is why this story will be riddled with guilty pleasures, for your reading pleasure. ;) 
> 
> Also, it’s possible that the rating miiiiiight bump up to M later on, due to the darker themes included in the later half and due to, uh, reasons that aren’t exactly safe for work. if you know what I mean. -wink wink- (NOT IMPLYING A POTENTIAL LEMON OR ANYTHING AHAHAH)  
> Hope you enjoy! <3

“Wait, don’t leave me, Gwen!”

On instinct, Nami’s head jerks upward, and for a moment she’s half-tempted to turn around in the direction of where the voice is coming from, but she decides against it upon remembering what duties she needs to fulfill. She looks back at the produce. _Okay, so… what exactly is it I need?_ Her gaze falls upon the tomatoes that sit in the bottom container. _Right, tomatoes._

“Forget it, Brad. I’m sick and tired of your games. It’s _over._ Get that through your thick head!

Nami’s eyebrow twitches, that line catching her attention and filling her in on the context of the situation a bit, but she tries to resist the temptation of eavesdropping regardless. She takes a deep breath, and focuses her attention back onto the tomatoes she needs to pick. 

“I swear I’ll change! Please, I love you!”

The sound of a cheek getting slapped reverberates throughout the entire grocery store, and despite her better judgment, Nami turns around to see just what the hell is going on.

A blond boy around her age, if not younger, sits on the ground while rubbing his left cheek. The person responsible for this display is most likely the brown-haired girl who stands before him, who looks to be around the same age. 

“How many times have I heard you say _that before?!_ ” The girl shrieks. “I don’t buy it anymore!”

“Everyone’s looking at us, Gwen…” he whines. Nami blinks, and look around just to see if what he’s saying is true. While there aren’t many people in the store to begin with, the people who are, including herself, admittedly _all_ have their eyes locked on the two of them. She almost kind of feels sorry for the two of them; then again, they are the ones out making a scene, and in public, no less. 

The girl’s face flushes at his comment. “They wouldn’t be looking if you hadn’t provoked me!” she snaps, and she raises a fist up high, looking ready to strike at any moment. Sadly enough, her attention just happens to shift to Nami at that moment. 

“What are you looking at?!”

Nami’s temper is involuntarily triggered by the way she’s addressed, a part of her personality she tries hard to keep under control most of the time, and for a split-second she debates on what matters to her more; keeping a low-profile, or letting this girl know her place. But, at the end of the day, logic prevails above all, and Nami looks away, keeping an indifferent exterior. Getting involved in whatever these two teenagers are fighting about wouldn’t help her in the long run, after all. 

The girl snorts haughtily, as if to say, _“Yeah, that’s what I thought,”_ and diverts her attention back to the boy, who cowers under her unwavering glare. 

“You can explain whatever you want to me _outside_ ,” she snarls, and strangely, there’s this weird hopeful--dare Nami say-- happy, look on his face, and he nods violently. She then grabs him by the arm and drags him towards the door. “Let’s go.”

“I knew you still loved me, baby!” he cries out just before they leave the store. _“Shut up!”_ is the last word Nami hears come out from that girl, and from that pair in general.

For a moment or two, Nami just stares stupidly after them, mind rendered at a complete loss after having witnessed that exchange, and once she comes back to her senses, all she does is let out a long, drawn-out sigh. 

“Seriously… what’s wrong with people these days…” She mutters out, partially in an attempt that someone in the store will hear her and agree, but when she looks back up, everyone’s off minding their own business again, almost as if that bizarre exchange never happened. She frowns.

She may not have been in this town for very long, and while she usually actively _tries_ not to judge a book by its cover (keyword; _try_ ), its residents are already starting to leave a pretty bad impression on her.

“Excuse me, young lady,” a raspy voice says behind her, and she turns around to see an old woman standing behind her.

Nami blinks. “Yes?” 

The old lady points to Nami’s feet. “Are those yours?”

At first, Nami’s incredulous by the fact that one is stupid enough to ask another person if their _feet_ belong to them, especially an old lady, but it’s only until after she looks down that she realizes that the only stupid person here is Nami herself. Tomatoes lay sprawled out all over the floor. The eighteen-year old is silent as she takes this information in. 

“Are you alright?” The lady asks worriedly.

Nami sighs, snapping back to reality, and she gets to her knees to start picking up the fallen vegetables. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, Ma’am, for asking.” She then slowly starts to put them into the plastic bag she had picked out for them to be in earlier. “I must have dropped all of this due to all the… _commotion,_ earlier on. Thanks for pointing it out; I didn’t even realize that I had.”

“It’s no problem,” the lady says kindly, and without asking she gets to her knees as well. Just as Nami’s about to tell her that she doesn’t have to give her a hand, the lady adds, “Those two kids… they were making quite a scene earlier on. It was disrespectful of them to act like that, especially in a public. It’s only natural to get distracted by something like that.”

Two emotions flood over Nami at that moment; one part of her is ecstatic that she’s finally met someone normal in this strange, aloof town, while the other is a bit troubled by the old lady’s remark. No matter what anyone else may say, it’s not natural for _Nami_ to get distracted by occurrences that don’t concern her. One of the few things she’s ever prided herself on is her ability to be focused completely on whatever task is at hand, whether she liked doing it or not; self-discipline is something that’s been imposed on Nami her entire life, it’s something her parents strongly enforced on her and it used to be one of her core values for a long time. Even if that exact same discipline may have gotten her into trouble and been the cause of her suffering for the last five years of her life, regardless, it’s still something that’s been drilled into her from a young age, and something she used to be effective at maintaining. 

But ever since she’s moved to this town, her motivation and willpower have been failing her. She used to always have strong reasons as to why she’d do whatever she did, even if they were for better or worse, but now, she hasn’t got any particular goals in mind that would normally push her into becoming a better version of herself. Nothing propels her anymore, nothing feels like a good justification, especially since a lot of what she’s told to do probably won’t even matter in the long run. Focusing on even miniscule tasks feels insurmountable, and she doesn’t even feel a sense of satisfaction when she gets them done. A lot of what she feels most of the time is just bitterness towards everything and everyone, and resentment towards those who live easier lives, yet still take what they have for granted. 

Not to mention, the amount of crazy people this town offers is overwhelming, and it seems that no matter where she turns, something or _someone_ shows up and detracts her from whatever she’s doing. So then again, the woman does have a point; it is very difficult to be concentrated on whatever task is at hand when people like _that_ are waltzing around society. 

“Yeah, they really were making a big scene,” Nami says with a frown. “I don’t know what’s wrong with people these days. Some people need to learn some self-control. They’re in public, for Christs’ sake...”

While she normally speaks politely to her elders, Nami’s been craving to engage in a casual conversation with someone _other_ than her sister and her therapist in this town for a while, and this woman seems like the perfect candidate with whom she can partake in one, despite being a senior citizen. They _do_ seem to have something in common, after all.

Oddly enough, though, instead of complaining along with her, a small smile plays on the woman’s lips. “You have to admit, it was pretty entertaining. Watching teenagers fight like that, over silly things, without having a care in the world… it’s like watching something out of a TV show.”

Nami’s surprised by this response; she didn’t expect her to find _humor_ in the situation. Frankly, though, she’s also disappointed by this stance of hers; she was expecting an elderly woman such as herself be against such behavior, not openly condone it.

“Well, _I_ wasn’t entertained,” Nami replies curtly, but as soon as those words exit her mouth, she wonders if they’re really true. She shakes the thought away; does it really matter if she was entertained or not? At the end of the day, their behavior was still immature, and they were setting a bad example for other young adults such as herself. So it doesn’t matter. 

Once they finish picking up all of the tomatoes, they get back to their feet and Nami thanks her, and wonders if she should tell her how dangerous her way of thinking is for the youth of the country, but the old woman apparently doesn’t know how to shut up. “Teenagers will be teenagers,” she says, way too warmly for Nami’s taste, “I won’t lie; I used to be like them, once. Young, reckless, and in love. That’s all a part of growing up. If you ask me, I’d give anything to be like that again. I remember when I...”

Nami can only stare at this woman in silence as she continues rambling on about the wonders of adolescence. The more she runs her mouth, the more Nami questions why she even started talking to her in the first place. And it’s a shame, too; for the first time, Nami thought she had met someone in this town with whom she could actually identify with. But then again, there really was no point in the first place, trying to connect with somebody who grew up with an entirely different generation than her, and probably didn’t go through half the things she personally has.

For a bit, Nami zones out while the lady’s talking, waiting for an opening where she can swiftly end the conversation and be done with her, but then the lady just says this one sentence, this one really, _really_ pretentious sentence, that is so cliche and heard everywhere, a line that catches Nami completely off-guard and makes her nearly drop her tomatoes again, that she has to take a double-take;

“Teenage years are the best years of a person’s life.”

Nami’s fairly certain she would have choked on air the moment those words left the old lady’s mouth, if that were indeed possible. Instead, she stares at the old lady with her mouth open, shocked that _anyone_ can just say something like that openly, especially to someone whose in the age group of the people the old lady just mentioned, and expect to be taken seriously. It’s not even a comment worth laughing at; it’s the walking definition of a statement that makes one cringe so hard that one wonders what they even did to deserve hearing it in the first place.

Nami’s momentarily silent as she processes her statement, a part of her refusing to believe that she heard it at all, but the line the old lady then says next confirms that Nami’s ears hadn’t failed her beforehand;

“Don’t you think so, too?” 

The cheerful, earnest way she looks at Nami makes the girl shift uncomfortably; by now, she can tell that the old woman’s comment on adolescence being one of the best times of a person’s life is a sincere one, (and that, well, one she actually dared to say to someone like Nami), and that right now, the old lady’s asking her a question to which she probably hopes that Nami give a reassuring response.

As she contemplates on what to say, Nami tries to resist a sneer from forming on her face. The old lady might not have meant anything inherently bad by her question, but at the end of the day, it’s not one that Nami can agree with. And it’s lame of the woman to put Nami on the spot for something like this, where her giving a negative response will only make the eighteen-year old year old look like a rude, inconsiderate person. Respecting her elders is one thing, but to agree with a statement that irritates her to the core whenever she sees it spread around, that’s… that’s another.

“I don’t agree with that, Ma’am,” Nami replies firmly, careful not to let her voice rise, “Everyone’s life is different. For some people, it is, but for others, it isn’t. It’s not right to generalize stuff like that.”

Nami expects the old lady to be caught off-guard by her adamant reply, like most elders are when given a reality check, but strangely enough, the woman doesn’t even blink. She just continues looking at Nami with that same jovial expression on her face, completely unfazed by the redhead’s words.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” the lady says fondly, and Nami bristles inwardly. _I haven’t heard that line before!_

“I’m sure I will,” Nami agrees, sarcasm dripping from her voice, but the woman doesn’t seem to take note of it, her smile unmoving. It creeps Nami out, but she quickly realizes that now’s a good chance to end the conversation as ever.

Before the lady can get the next word, Nami blurts, “In any case, I’m in a hurry right now,” She pauses, and flashes the old woman a forced smile, “Thanks for help earlier on.”  
\--  
As Nami exits the store, she frowns upon noticing that it’s already dark out. Had she really been in there for that long? Ugh, great. She just _had_ to get distracted by those teenagers and that woman.  
Taking a sigh, she then starts to walk leisurely in the direction of her home. The grocery store isn’t admittedly far away from where she lives; about fifteen minutes by foot; but it still would have been nice if she could have saved herself the extra trip by just driving there. But, until she can learn how to drive, she doesn’t really have another option. Besides, her psychiatrist _did_ mention that exercising just thirty minutes every day does wonders for one’s mental state, and seeing as it took her fifteen minutes to walk to the store and how it’ll take her fifteen minutes to walk back, she supposes she’s reaching her quota for the day. 

As she paces in the direction of her home, the old lady’s words ring in her head again;  
_“Teenage years are the best years of a person’s life.”_  
Nami can’t help but feel a surge of annoyance as the memory resurfaces. She probably shouldn’t get so agitated by what the lady said; she _is_ a lot older than Nami, probably more experienced, wiser, and all… but… there’s something about those _words_ \--or rather, _line of thinking,_ that leaves a bitter taste in Nami’s mouth. She knows that the media is to blame for this, what with the constant array of exaggerated teenage romance novels on display and the sheer amount of high school movies being put out left and right, but what confuses her to no end is _why._

She just doesn’t know _why_ adolescence is constantly romanticized anywhere she turns, and what makes it different from any other period in a person’s life. Now, one can argue that this confusion within her arises from having started to partake in illegal activities since she was thirteen, and possibly due to having been living under circumstances that even the most intimidating criminals nowadays would find daunting, but Nami likes to think that this _isn’t_ the case. Even if she has been through a lot of circumstances that most people her age probably haven’t, she doesn’t think that’s the reason why she’s so out of the loop. 

_Then again… I wonder, just how many teenagers have gone through the shit I did growing up? Hm…_

She sighed. There was probably no point in getting worked up over it; at the enlightening age of eighteen, it’s fair to say that her adolescence is over for the most part, and now all that’s in store for her is the wonders of adulthood. And while some other people her age might be bothered by this fact, Nami herself can honestly say that she couldn’t care less. Her teenage years might’ve not been the greatest out there, but she doubts she missed much. 

… Well, except maybe a proper education, a crimeless household, and a legal guardian that didn’t beat the shit out of you on a regular basis, but those are small things to ask for, she figures.  
All in all, her past doesn’t matter anymore, and she intends to keep it that way. 

_Don’t even lie. You haven’t gotten completely over everything that’s happened._

Realizing that she’s allowing her mind to start tearing itself apart again, she closes her eyes and tries hard to think about something else. _Ruminating won’t do you any good. Remember what Mrs. Ross said._

… Okay, so maybe she did miss out on a couple things, but why does it matter? What’s done is done. Her past currently has no effect on her future. She now has a chance to start over and actually start focusing on the things she cares about.

_Oh, really? Like what, for example?_

She flinches inwardly, realizing her self-deprecating inner voice actually has a point. What does she actually care about, anyway? Now that she thinks about it, she has a longer list of things she doesn’t care about. 

She frowns at the thought. _Well, I care about Nojiko…_

Her inner snorts. _Yeah, well, Nojiko’s not a thing, last time I checked._

_I… well… I care about my ability to be good at the things I’m told to do._

_First of all, you don’t even seem to care all that much about that anymore because your concentration is garbage all the time, and second of all, how many times how that ‘ability’ of yours screwed you over when you were still working under that piece of shit?_

She hates it when her inner voice is right. And she hates it even more when it keeps prying relentlessly. 

_Which begs the question; what are even your hopes, dreams and goals for the future?_  
….

She inhales. 

_You know I don’t know._

And with that her self-critical voice is silenced, but she can hardly breathe a sigh of relief. The thing is, she already knows herself fairly well; and she knows enough to say that she hasn’t a clue what goals she has for the future. Any hope or dream she might have had as a child was shattered upon her parents’ deaths and upon receiving that bastard as her legal guardian, who exploited her talents for his own gain, and made sure that her _only_ priority in life should be keeping herself and her sister alive by doing everything he said. Otherwise, she wouldn’t like what happened next. 

For a while, her goals were escaping his tyranny, or contacting help while he wasn’t looking. Those endeavors ended in failure every time, and he made sure the both of them paid the price for stepping out of line. 

After that, she made her goal obeying everything he told her to do. She rationalized in her head that if she did everything he told her, none of them would have to get hurt. That help would come eventually. So she complied to his requests, forcing herself not to question if the things she was doing were morally wrong or not. She did it so that she and her sister could survive, she rationalized. It was the only way she could stomach doing the sick things he made her do. 

It took her three and a half years to accept the fact that help was probably never going to come. 

And it was sad, because help _did_ eventually come--- but it came too late. 

By the time she and her sister were liberated from his terror, Nami was already broken. The years of abuse, physical and verbal, had taken its toll on her. Had the police officers come a day earlier, perhaps part of her could be salvaged, but they were too late. The day prior to their arrival, the bastard had soiled her completely, broke her to the core, and Nami was certain that there was nothing left for her after that. She doesn’t remember what he did exactly; she must have blocked out the memory of it due to the trauma; but she knows that after that, dying became her only objective. And it was a goal of hers that lasted more than a year. During that period of time, she tried everything in her power to make it a reality. 

Thankfully, though, it didn’t. Her psychiatrist Mrs. Ross and Nojiko never let her.

It's taken her a year and a half to recover from all of that and become, well, a somewhat normal member of society again, she supposes. Mentally, she probably still has issues, but she’s certainly a lot better than before. She’s adopted a somewhat more sane way of looking at things and handling problems in general; aside from occasional relapses and… the nightmares, she guesses that her only problem is that she kind of just feels a bunch of boredom and apathy most of the time. 

… And annoyance, to be honest. 

She knows that her therapist Mrs. Ross told her what she can do to alleviate such feelings of monotony; by giving herself certain goals to focus on and by trying hard to accomplish them. She even suggested that Nami should make new friends at the high school she’ll be starting tomorrow, that it'll be a great goal to keep her mind occupied and at bay, but… somehow that idea makes Nami want to straight up laugh.

From what Nami can tell, from having watched and read numerous TV shows and magazines on the subject, and from having witnessed today’s fiasco with the dysfunctional couple, people her age, at least in this day and era, are complete idiots. 

She sighs internally as she approaches her home. While a part of her hopes she isn’t true, she really doesn’t know what to expect for tomorrow. Truthfully, it would probably do her good to make some friends, but… in the event that her past ends up catching up to her, she doesn’t want her friends to be there when it does. Or God forbid, they get involved in it.  
\--  
“I’m home!”

Nami is greeted by silence as she closes the door to her apartment she shares with her sister. She blinks; is Nojiko asleep, or something? At this hour? She checks her cellphone. Eight o’clock. She sighs. It’s not like she can blame her sister, though. Nami’s dead tired by all the walking and overthinking that truth be told, she just wants to get into bed so she can sleep as well.

After putting what she bought into the fridge, she takes off her shoes, goes into her bedroom, collapses onto her bed, and just lets herself fall asleep.  
\--

__

_“Arlong! Please, stop this!”_

_A bloodcurdling cry escapes Nami’s mouth as the said man’s foot collides against her left rib, her mind sent whirling, the sickening crunch it produced being the only letting her know that he’s successfully fractured it. She sobs, curling up into a fetal position._

_“Oh, begging, now are we?” He snarls, all the while grinning sadistically. He grabs her by the neck and shoves her against the wall. She gasps for breath._

_“Come on, Nami…” he whispers against her ear. “You can’t expect me to stop. Not after everything you’ve done.”_

_“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, “I shouldn’t have fought back. I should have listened to you. I should have known that you’re the one calling the shots around here.”_

_“Yes, you should have,” he purrs, strengthening his grasp on her neck, causing her to gag, “But it’s too late for that now.”_

_Cold, mocking laughter reverberates throughout the entire room, and Nami feels herself starting lose consciousness._

_“Just… please… no more…” she whispers, voice barely audible, but loud enough for the person in question to hear._

_“We both know you brought this out upon yourself, Nami.”_

\--

Nami jolts upward from her bed, panic and adrenaline rushing through her whole body, and it takes her a moment to breathe before bringing herself back to reality.

Upon coming to her senses, she bites her lip and swallows hard in an attempt to prevent herself from crying. While Nami’s grown accustomed to having nightmares every other night for some time now, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying from when they first started to plague her mind on a regular basis. If anything, she swears that they’re getting even more morbid with each passing night.

She takes in a deep breath and tucks a strand of hair that falls from her bangs behind one of her ears. She knows that in spite of all of the fear she feels, guilt dominates her more than anything as she comes to terms with the realization that everything that has happened so far is a result of her own actions.

She grips her left shoulder tightly as she’s reminded of what lies under the sleeve of her shirt. It makes her grit her teeth, the thought that what lay beneath it would forever be engraved into her skin and serve as a constant reminder of all the atrocities she had committed in the past.

She knows that she has no else to blame but herself, though, and that knowledge is what hurts the most.

Who is she kidding? She hasn’t gotten over what happened, not in the slightest. 

She falls back onto her bed and shuts her eyes.

Another night where she tries not to cry herself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s it for this chapter! There was supposed to be more, but I’ve decided to include that into the next chapter so this one doesn’t be too long. 
> 
> Also, I know a lot of things are probably confusing, for now. Nami’s past will be elaborated in detail as the story progresses, for now, any mentions of her past are just to tease you guys and give you glimpses of what it might have been like. This is just a prologue of some sorts; it’s essential to the plot, but it doesn’t go into too much detail about things. Things should get more interesting next chapter.
> 
> I will try to update on a monthly basis, but I can’t say for sure since most of the time I’m overloaded with work and school and stuff. That being said, whenever I have lovely reviewers being there for me to support me, that usually increases the update speed as well! So, if you have the time, I would definitely appreciate it if you guys let me know your thoughts on this chapter!


	2. A Meaningless Encounter... Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, Nami starts her first day at high school with a bang. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, chapter 2 is finally here! Sorry for the wait, was really busy with life and stuff. 
> 
> Regarding the setting of this story… This story takes place in the modern day, but takes names and locations from One Piece, although they will probably be altered in some way or another to coincide with modern-day life. (i.e Loguetown in this fic isn’t like how it is in One Piece.)
> 
> Some stuff regarding the school system, economy and government will be purely fictitious, and some of it will be taken from America, Europe and Japan. This is due to the sake of the plot. 
> 
> Also, there are no superhuman abilities in this fic, no supernatural occurrences, no magical creatures, none of that jazz. Just regular people. Sorry to disappoint!
> 
>  **Warning:** Please take note that Nami is still not completely right in the head at the beginning of this story. In this chapter in particular, she did something in the past that a mentally ill person irl should probably NOT do. Which is why, if you’re suffering from a mental disorder of any sort, I don’t advise you to do what Nami did in this chapter. Seek help from the proper sources, and stay determined on your path to heal. (Talking to a close friend can help, but so can talking to a stranger. Heck, if you feel like there’s no one willing to talk to you, talk to me. I was depressed once, and I can tell you, from experience, that mental hospitals and psychiatrists aren’t always the best choice and don’t always help. Drop me a message, and I’ll help anyway I can. I don’t bite.)
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has a couple F bombs along with some other swear words. Yeah… start getting used to that. I try not to go overboard with stuff like that, but you know, it’s a fact that teenagers, do infact, swear. (Shocking, I know!) And if you’re a teenager who acts like they don’t swear, please. Who are you kidding. Like I said, I’ll try not to go too crazy with its usage, but that really just depends on my muse, to be honest. xD
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, enjoy!

It takes great effort for Nami to force herself out of her bed the following morning. The nightmare from yesterday took its toll on both her mental and physical state, and knowing that she now has to get ready for a certain conservatory where her worth will be judged on how well she can remember trivial facts only serves to discourage her further.

Still; she knows she doesn’t have a choice in this situation, so she reluctantly staggers out of her bed. She wouldn’t have slept well anyway; the bed she sleeps on is as hard as rock, and seeing as it _still_ feels stiff even after having slept there for three months now, Nami doubts that she’ll be getting used to it anytime soon.

She fumbles her way towards the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror. Dark circles hang under her eyes from a lack of a good night’s sleep, and her short orange hair, although usually straight on its own, is in serious need of a brush.

She groans in frustration as she starts combing her hair.

Her day is already off to a bad start, and she hasn’t even gotten to the worst part of it yet.

After washing her face, she scours through her sister’s makeup kits that are on the counter, searching for anything that’ll make her a face less hideous, and stumbles upon a concealer that doesn’t align with her fair complexion. She inwardly curses herself for having lighter skin than Nojiko, but figuring it’s better than nothing, she dabs it lightly under her eyes. Upon realizing that its darker color stands out from the rest of her skin, with a heavy sigh, she squeezes out another handful and smears it all over her face.

She looks like she’s just come back from a tanning salon, but it’s better than looking like she’s come back from the dead.

After that, she walks back to her room to see what to wear for the day. It isn’t like she has much variety, though; they can only buy what they can afford, and what they can afford isn’t anything special. Even the makeup Nojiko owns is the cheapest on the market right now, and her sister only owns it due to her line of work. It’d be nice if the government chipped in to help with this type of stuff, but she supposes that’d be asking a little too much. They’ve already done so much for the two sisters already.

After briefly skimming through the few clothes she has, she settles on something she deems the most similar to what other people her age wear, and the least likely to grab anyone’s attention; blue jeans and a white, short sleeved blouse. It’s ordinary, it won’t make her stand out in the slightest, but that’s the look she’s going for, anyway.

Besides… out of all the clothes she owns that are suitable for this type of weather, the white blouse is the one that covers up her left shoulder the best.

After putting on the wardrobe laid out in front of her, she scrutinizes her appearance in the mirror. After a moment of pondering, she decides that she looks presentable, if not generic. She’s satisfied with this outcome, though, taking into account her lack of clothing and knowledge with how her peers will dress. What matters most to her is keeping a low profile, and by the way she’s dressed, she’ll accomplish that.

Then again… dressing ordinarily has the potential to work against her, she realizes. If everyone at her school follows a certain fashion trend, her modest choice of dress will be the first thing to make her stand out.

.... Aside from being a new student, that is, she thinks to herself numbly.

“You’re up early.”

On impulse, Nami’s heart races, an involuntary response that is drilled into her body after having lived a life of fear and paranoia for so long, and she whirls around to find her sister, Nojiko, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and doting her characteristic smirk. Nami lets out a sigh of relief.

“Seriously, Nojiko… you shouldn’t creep up on people like that,” she deadpans. True, while Nami admits that it’s not necessarily her sister’s fault for Nami’s heightened reflexes to anything her body perceives as potential danger, she should at least give her a heads up before barging in on her like that, unannounced.

“Sorry, sorry,” Nojiko replies with a wave of her hand, not seeming sorry at all. "Anyway, what's up with your face? I didn't take you for a Ganguro."

Nami flushes. She knew putting on Nojiko's concealer was a bad idea.

"I look like shit without it, so..." she starts, before Nojiko interrupts.

"Yeah, well, you look even shittier _with_ it on, so you should probably take it off before you go to school. "

Nami scowls, but knows Nojiko wouldn't lie to her, so she she'll heed her advice.

“Where were you last night?” Nami asks irritably.

“Sleeping, duh. Oh yeah, did you get what I asked you to get at the store yesterday?”

Nami’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, I did.”

Nojiko’s smile doesn’t falter for a second, and if anything, it broadens upon observing the way Nami is dressed.

“So, that’s what you’re going to wear for the first day of school?” Nojiko comments, her voice a mixture of thoughtfulness and amusement.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Nami asks, irked, although she _is_ being honest with her question. While she isn’t in the mood to waste time thinking about her appearance again, if every person at her new school reacts to her clothing the way Nojiko does, it won’t do her any good.

“Not at all,” Nojiko replies, raising both of her hands defensively, “It’s just… well, a bit plain.”

Nami sighs. “I know that, Nojiko,” she replies tartly, “That was kind of my goal.”

“Keeping a low profile, are we?”

_Fuck. She’s got me figured out._

“I don’t know how everyone’s going to dress, so I don’t want to stand out for the wrong reasons,” she clarifies, and turns away to start searching for her backpack through the mess in her room, hoping that this display of indifference will discourage Nojiko from pressing the subject further.

“Riiight. And you think that by dressing plainly, you’re not going to stand out?”

“Pretty much,” she replies casually, and frowns after having spent good ten seconds searching with no results. “Have you seen my backpack anywhere?” she asks, not stopping to turn around and face her sister. She doesn’t know why she can’t find it anywhere; Nojiko had only bought back it a couple days ago, and its white color is hard to miss.

“You mean, _my_   backpack?”

“Yes, I mean _your_   backpack that you gave me to use for the school year,” Nami retorts, “Sorry, forgot to be specific.”

Nojiko chuckles, but doesn’t answer her question. She instead seems to prefer getting under Nami’s skin with _unneeded_   questions.

“You are aware that just by being a new student, you’re going to stand out, right?”

Nami groans in frustration at her inability to find her carry-on even after having checked the entire room, and partly due to Nojiko’s insistence to linger on a topic she wants nothing more than to drop.

 _“Nojiko,”_ she snaps, a bit more sharply than she intends, and whirls around, “are you going to continue bombarding me with pointless questions, or are you going to help me find my-”

Nami’s voice comes to a grinding halt upon witnessing her sister pull out the item she was stressing so much over from behind her back, an innocent smile plastered on her face.

“...bag,” Nami finishes, her lips curling into a frown.

“Looking for this?” Nojiko asks cheekily.

“....Why do you do this to me?”

“Because you’re my younger sister and I can,” she winks playfully, and Nami probably would have found humor in the childish joke as well, had these types of jokes not been played on her a million times before. Although Nami acknowledges the fact that teasing is only in an older sibling’s nature and that it can’t be helped, it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Nami replies dryly, and yanks her white bag away from her sister in a huff, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

Nojiko chuckles. “Geez, calm down, alright? I was only kidding.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have the time right now to fool around,” she replies sharply, and turns to around to look for her shoes. Nojiko scoffs.

 _“Seriously?_ Who acts like this on their first day at a new school? Aren’t you even a little excited?”

“Excited over what?” Nami mumbles as she’s crouched with her head under her bed, “Waking up early every morning, not getting enough sleep, stressing over test scores, having to interact with people I want nothing to do with…”

She lets out a sigh as she pulls her shoes out from under her bed. “If those are the types of things I’m supposed to be excited over, then I’m interested to know what are the things that are supposed to bore me.”

“You’re making it sound a lot worse than it actually is.”

“I’m just stating the facts,” she says with a wave of her hand. “High school is nothing more than a confinement posing as an institution where one gets educated. Half of the people who go there don’t even _want_ to be there.”

“The same could be said for anywhere, Nami,” Nojiko tells her sister wearily with a sigh. “And you have to tell me where you heard that, because that’s obviously something you didn’t come up with. How would you even know what high school’s like? You’ve never even been to one!”

“I’ve done my fair share of research, thank you very much,” Nami replies, stumbling to her feet.

Nojiko rolls her eyes.

“You could at least try not to be such a smartass,” she says, “You know, most kids your age would be thrilled over something like this. They’d see it as an opportunity to start anew and to meet new people. _You,_ on the other hand, just seem content with being a pessimist. ”

She then smirks knowingly and nudges Nami with her elbow. “After all, where else are you gonna find yourself a boyfriend, if not there?”

Nami’s brow furrows at that comment and she swats her sister’s elbow away. “And I care about finding a boyfriend… why?”

“Because I’m assuming you don’t wanna die a virgin?”

“Wha-” Nami’s eyes widen, her face turning a deep shade of red, while Nojiko bursts into laughter.

“You should see your face right now!” Nojiko giggles, pointing a finger at Nami, causing the redhead to blush even more.

“Sh-Shut up!” Nami yells heatedly, but this only evokes more laughter from Nojiko, angering her further.  
How can Nojiko even ask her something like that?

“At the end of the day, you’re still just a kid. Hell, you’ve probably never even masturbated before.”

Nami’s certain that by this point, her face is on fire. “Piss off.” She growls. Nojiko whistles.

“Act that same way towards guys and you aren't gonna get laid any time soon~"

_“Nojiko!”_

“Relax, will you?” Nojiko clicks her tongue as she pinches Nami’s nose. “I’m only messing with you. Learn to lighten up a little.”

Nami shoves her sister away, cheeks still pink. “I fail to see how this was humorous.”

“Probably because you’re a grump all the time. And you’re a grump all the time cause you’re a virgin.”

“Are you done now?”

“I can go on, but I’ll stop for today. I think you’ve had enough.”

Nami rolls her eyes, but she’d be lying if she said that Nojiko’s playful jabs didn’t make her momentarily forget about her worries for the day, if only a little. She’s grateful for that, at least.

But she knows she has to get back on the task at hand.

“Right,” she mutters, a blush still on her face, and tries to leave the room. Only to have Nojiko grab her hand before she can.

“Seriously, though… I know you’re nervous about today, but try to make the most out of it, alright?”

The previous anxiety Nami had earlier on returns and she hesitates, looking in the other direction.

“It’s... not that I don’t want to enjoy my new experience there. It’s just, we both know that high school…”

She pauses, and takes in a breath before finishing her sentence, “isn’t the place for someone like me.”

Nami lets out a sigh, and clenches her left shoulder, the act of which is slowly growing into a bad habit. The smile on Nojiko vanishes almost instantly and is replaced with a look of worry.

“Nami…” she says with her voice trailing off, and Nami can tell that it’s taking great difficulty for her sister to find her words. She heaves, and begins her sentence on a more stern note.

“I thought we went over this,” she says quietly. “We promised each other that we wouldn’t dwell in the past anymore.”

Nami bites her lip, finding it hard to look her sister in the eye.

“I know,” she says quietly. “I’m trying hard to get over it. Really, I am. But… It’s just so hard. Whenever I do, I just start thinking about all the things that happened-what he did-what… _I_ did..”

Nami feels her throat clog up, knowing that if she doesn’t get a hang of herself, she’ll let loose all of the raw emotion within her.

“I… I know I’m supposed to move on,” Nami says quietly after regaining her composure, “But… I just can’t. He hurt a lot of people, Nojiko.”

“I know, Nami,” her sister murmurs and looks at the ground. “I know.”

A pregnant silence hangs between them before Nojiko speaks up again.

“Look… I know it’s hard to not think about it. But now’s our chance to start over.”

She puts a hand on Nami’s shoulder reassuringly. “For _you_ to start over.”

Her words fall deaf on Nami’s ears.

“But… what he finds us?”

Anger suddenly flares through Nojiko’s eyes and Nami shrinks.

 _“Arlong_ won’t find us, Nami. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this.” She says firmly, and Nami flinches at the mention of his name. It’s been a while since anyone said it out loud; Mrs. Ross suggested against doing so to avoid triggering bad memories, although truthfully, what was the point of that, anyway? So far it hasn’t helped her in her mental state recovery at all. Not mentioning his name hasn’t made her forget the things he’s done.

That being said, though; finally hearing his name uttered after so long, she _hates_ it. She hates the way it rolls off a person’s tongue. It’s such an ugly name, befitting an ugly person.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Nami blurts out before she can stop herself.

“Yes, I do,” she snaps, “Because we didn’t abandon our former home, move across the country and change our names for him to find us.”

Nami wants to argue, but she knows that nothing she’d say would work against her sister. She can only let out another sigh.

“I know, but… I can’t help it…Whenever I try not to think about him, about what happened, I just end up hating myself and feeling even more guilt for even trying to pursue a life of happiness after all that happened…”

Nojiko puts her hands on her sister in reassurance.

“Listen. You’re eighteen. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Haven’t you ever wanted to live a normal life? So… give it your all today, alright?”

Nami bites her lip in uncertainty, and while she wants to listen to her sister’s request more than anything, she doubts that’ll she’ll have the willpower to do so. She guesses that the only sensible thing to do now is tell her sister what she wants to hear.

“I’ll try,” she says quietly, part of her statement holding truth in it. Yes, she will indeed try, but trying the best she _can_ is out of the question.

Nojiko smiles, and although Nami can tell that it’s forced, she probably nonetheless appreciates Nami’s resolution. “Good,” she says decidedly, and releases her sister. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Nojiko lets out a sigh, a mixture of relief and exasperation, as she lets go and turns around, heading out the door.

“Anyway, I’m off to work. Don’t wanna be late for the day,” she pauses. “You remember how to get there, right?”

“Of course I do,” Nami snaps, “It’s only a twenty-five minute walk away from here.”

“Atta girl,” Nojiko winks. “Don’t want you getting lost on your first day of school.”

“Har har.”

Nojiko chuckles at Nami’s sarcastic response, and just as she’s about to exit the doorway, she glances over her shoulder and adds one last thing;

“Oh, and Nami? I know you couldn’t care less for boys, but try and make some _friends_ at least, will you?

Nami resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Fine,” she replies, though she doesn’t really mean it.

* * *

 

Nami takes a deep breath as she stands in front of the school that she’s meant to attend. It’s a relatively large school with three floors. It’s due to it being the only one in town, she figures. _The perks of small towns, huh. Everyone goes to the same school, everyone goes to the same mall, everyone probably goes to the same supermarket, too... everyone… probably just_ knows _each other._ She bites her lip in uncertainty, hoping this doesn’t prove to be a bad thing in the future.

This town--Loguetown--from what Nami can gather in the three months she’s been living here, is starkly different from the other places she’s lived in. It’s a small urban settlement, with a population of about 15,000 people. It’s, from what she can put together, what someone would call reminiscent of the “suburbs” portrayed in various teenage sitcoms. Somehow, she doesn’t find that thought comforting, and the similarities this town bears to those sitcoms doesn’t stop there, if the behavior those two teenagers displayed yesterday is anything is go by.

It’s usually sunny and it never gets warm enough to the point that it’s uncomfortable. During the winter, the worst that happens is that it rains.

There’s a beach located about an hour away by car, and if Nami actually makes some friends today, maybe she’ll go sometime.

_Ha. Good one, Nami._

In any case, what she likes most about the town she currently resides in is the fact that nobody’s ever heard of it. It’s a run-of-the-mill town that has absolutely nothing noteworthy about it, aside from maybe its weird citizens. Then again, maybe that’s just how most people act nowadays. She wouldn’t know; she doesn’t go out much, news flash.

In any case, a low-profile town located on the other side of the country means that the chances of her ever being found by that bastard or members of his gang are impossible, and that she can finally start living the life she’s always wanted to. She can now finally attend school normally, make some friends, maybe get into a good college, and live life _without a care in the world._ Maybe even fall in love.

Or at least, that’s what Nojiko and Mrs. Ross want her to do. Nami sniggers at how ignorant they are. She assumes that they want her to do these things so that if she emulates the thought patterns of most people her age, it’ll make her get how most of her peers think. Make her feel a bit more normal.

But she’s not normal. There’s nothing about her that ever _was, is, or will be,_ “normal”. And that’s something her psychiatrist-and even Nojiko, to some extent- won’t ever understand.

Her face darkens at the depressing thought, but she starts thinking about something else before her mind begins spiraling out of control.

Bringing her attention back to the school, there’s absolutely nothing remarkable about it. Maybe she was a bit more interested by the school the first time she saw it, about three months ago when she first moved here, and the couple of times she was there with Nojiko to enroll in it, but upon closer look, it’s actually just boring. Its crimson red-brick walls aren’t particularly innovating, the square shape of its classroom windows, bland, and its white roof is just… forgettable. She’s no architect, but even she can tell when a building’s conceptual design is just lazy.

 _Then again, it’s a school for Christs’ sake, how artistic is someone supposed to be when designing it? No one even wants schools to exist in the first place._ She thinks sourly.

The school obviously hasn’t been renovated in a long time, either. The color of the walls are faded with age and there isn’t even a concrete paved path that leads to the school. The path she’s standing on right now is just a dirt trail.

Nami’s heart starts pounding. Most people her age would normally be thinking of a way on how to make themselves stand out as much as possible on their first day; all she’s concerned about is the complete opposite. Unfortunately, Nojiko said that she’ll already be drawing a lot of attention just by being a new student, but she figures that if she makes an utterly unremarkable first impression, their interest in her will die out after the first day, which’ll make her plan of keeping a low profile a success. She smiles at the thought.

_“Try make some friends at least, will you?”_

Nami’s smile disappears upon hearing Nojiko’s words resurface in her mind and she tries to shake them off. She knows that the whole point of them moving to this town was to finally start life anew, to live a normal life. A life where where she could forget about all that had happened in her past and do things that most people did her age.

And while Nami’s been doing a good job of acting like she’s gotten over her past, she hasn’t. She’s gotten better at dealing with it, but to say that it still doesn’t haunt her would be a lie. She still suffers nightmares regularly, and the panic attacks, while nowadays few and far between, still happen, and when they do they suck. _Ass._

There’s also the fact that, although the chances of her and Nojiko ever being found by that bastard and his gang are incredibly low, practically nonexistent even, Nami’s still bothered by the fact that the possibility can’t be ruled out entirely.

And frankly, Nami doesn’t think she’ll ever recover completely. While she’s certainly not the blubbering suicidal mess she was a year and a half ago, she’s still far from what someone would call mentally stable, and part of her… feels, that deep within her, no matter how hard she tries, and even if Arlong ends up getting caught, the effects of all she went through will never truly leave her being.

That’s part of the reason why she told Nojiko and Mrs. Ross that she stopped having nightmares; so that they could take her off the antidepressants and cut her therapy sessions to only twice a week. While she knows this was a reckless decision, Nami knows that the nightmares weren’t going to go away anyway, and seeing that she was sick of visiting Mrs. Ross four times a week and feeling lethargic due to all the meds she was on, she decided she’d rather have the nightmares _without_ the annoying extra sessions and Lamictal to boot.

Antidepressants may work for some people, but they didn’t for her.

In any case; while part of her hopes she’s wrong, another part of her has conceded that most of what she’s doing in life is pointless, and that it’s futile in trying to think otherwise. She wonders if it’s her depression that’s making her to think like that, or if it’s her thoughts that are making her depressed.

Probably both.

But… even not taking Nami’s mental state into account, what does Nojiko know, anyway? Maybe some people need friends, but Nami doubts that she’s one of them. She’s always been content off by herself, even before Arlong got their custody and ruined their lives. She doesn’t need any friends.

Forming close bonds with other people only ensure that the second you lose them, it hurts. It’s a pain that really can’t compare to receiving head trauma, getting stabbed, or having your ribs fractured by someone who’s supposed to take care of you. It’s the type of pain that lingers long after the physical injuries have healed, it turns up when you least expect it and the next thing you know it’s crippling your day to day actions.

She’ll rather not risk the pain that comes with having even more people she cared about. Nojiko’s enough. Even more than enough.

Besides, not even taking her past into account, from what she’s observed, she’s annoyed by how the majority of how people are these days and the type of culture she lives in. While she has yet to get to know someone other than her sister, from what she’s watched on television and read on the Internet, people nowadays are selfish, shallow, ignorant, and misguided. _Especially_ people her own age.

This town hasn’t proved her wrong, sadly enough, if the events from yesterday are an indication. And Nami doubts she’ll meet anyone who will surprise her, make her _want_ to be friends with.

She shakes her head, dismissing her self-deprecating thoughts and thinks back to how she’s going to act on her first day. If anyone asks her any questions about where’s she’s from, she’ll handle them fine. She practically had her whole new identity, upbringing and background memorized the week she moved here. However, knowing that they might decide to _pry_ about her past is what worries her. She’s prepared to answer any basic questions about herself, but if they start getting deep with their questions, and if she’s not careful with what she says in return, to put it lightly, she’ll be fucked.

Okay, maybe she’s exaggerating a bit, but if she doesn’t keep track of what she’s telling her peers, she’ll draw attention to herself, and in time, that attention could morph into suspicion, and then… well...

Realizing she’s on the the verge of a panic attack, she closes her eyes and rationalizes her thoughts. _Calm down,_ Nami. Realistically, they’ll never figure out her past by mere small talk. The false story she and Nojiko constructed about their life is flawless, and won’t give anybody any reason to think it’s anything but true. Even if she does slip up at one point or another, it’ll probably go over their heads. High schoolers just aren’t motivated to keep track of that stuff, according to Nojiko, at least.

Besides, she _won’t_ slip up. She’s too careful to let that happen.

Anyway, she thinks back to how she’s going to act towards her peers. Acting too friendly will draw people to her, but acting too aloof will do the same. The best way she can act is if she finds a balance between the two. She won’t make an effort to speak to anyone unless she has to. If anyone starts small talk with her, she’ll smile, be polite, but bore them quickly by offering them short, disinterested answers. It’s an effective way of stopping a conversation from going anywhere.

Everything should go according to plan. It’ll be okay.

Nami takes in a deep breath and decides to take her first step.

That is, until, she finds herself falling to the ground, slammed by an unseen force.

It happens so fast that Nami’s brain can hardly keep up with it. She manages to break her fall by falling onto her knees and hands, but before she knows it, the backpack she’s been wearing slips off her shoulder and lands on the ground; specifically, on a part of the trail to school that just _happens_ to be covered in mud.

Mortified, she quickly gets to her feet and delicately picks up her backpack, praying to _God_ that only a little mud has gotten on it. She knows that her knees are probably covered in mud too, but that wasn’t as nearly as bad as getting it on a brand new white backpack.

To her disappointment, the front of it is topped with a thick coat of mud. She can’t say she’s surprised, but it still hurts.

 _Nojiko’s going to murder me,_ she thinks sourly.

She sighs, swiping what she can of it off, but she knows that the stain itself won’t go away so easily. Aside from being distressed that she’s now going to start her day with a muddied backpack and jeans, she’s mostly distraught that she’s ruined _two_ articles of clothing in _one day_. Maybe that fact alone isn’t enough to rile up most people, but seeing as she and Nojiko are poorer than church mice, she doesn’t take anything she owns for granted.

How could she let this happen?

….

**Wait.**

She **_isn’t_** the reason why this happened.

A explosive rage suddenly bursts within her as she remembers _why_ she fell in the first place and she whirls around to see just _what the fuck_ sent her plummeting to the ground.

She finds a boy sitting on the ground. By the way his backpack and school materials are all scattered across the ground, and judging by the way he’s panting, it’s glaringly obvious he ran into her.

She can’t catch a good glimpse of his face; his head is lowered and is obscured by his…wait... is that _a straw hat?_ And she thought _she_ had a bad fashion sense. The rest of his clothes aren’t too bad, but they’re hardly what she would call appropriate for school. With a white tank top that has the red letters GC etched on it and blue shorts that barely pass his knees, he looks like he’s going to the beach.

The thought of someone crashing into her from behind is... odd. She knows that when people are in a hurry to get places, they can neglect their surroundings, but it was hard to miss her. She was the only person standing in front of the school, for Christs’ sake, and she was standing still, no less. Not to mention, he’s pretty scrawny; so it’s strange that a runt like him managed to pack such a punch.

Still, she supposes that mistakes happen. She looks back to the items spread all over the floor. She instinctively starts walking in his direction to help him pick them up, but before she can blink, he’s on his feet and in her face, nose an alarming few inches away from hers.

“Are you okay?” He clamps both of his hands-that are covered in mud, mind you-over hers-“I’m really sorry I crashed into you like that!”

Nami is _not at all_ comfortable by this invasion of personal space, nor his obliviousness to what he’s doing to her hands. She wriggles her hands out of his grasp, sneering in disgust as she observes the mud now covering the back of them, and cautiously takes several steps backward.

“I’m… fine,” she replies, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice as she stares at her hands. Anger stirs within her momentarily before she sighs, willing herself to calm down.

She looks back up at him. “I’m fine. Thanks for the concern.” She repeats, although she makes an effort to make it sound more genuine this time. Sure, her backpack and hands are now dirty, but he did apologize at least, even if by doing so he poured salt into the wound.

By now, she’s gotten a good look at him. He looks to be around her age, if not younger, and is slightly taller than she is. He’s got dark eyes, and short, black strands of hair protrude from underneath his straw hat. The only other thing noteworthy about him is a strange scar underneath his left eye, and the fact that his skin is tanner than hers.

He’s not all that bad-looking, now that she thinks about it, but she quickly dismisses the thought as soon as it comes. Nami is _not_ going to start viewing every boy she meets as potential boyfriend material just because Nojiko keeps egging her on to find one.

Besides, this boy hasn’t exactly been leaving a good impression on her.

The boy blinks, as though having realized his mistake of dirtying her hands, and opens his mouth to speak.

“Are you hands like that from the fall earlier?”

 _No, genius, you just did this._ She offers him a dry smile.

“Yeah,” she starts, voice dripping with sarcasm, “instead of landing on the palms of my hands, I broke my fall by falling on the backside of them. That’s not physically possible for most people, but I’m a rare exception because I go against the laws of physics.”

His expression is that of shock, but before Nami can worry about if she’s being too mean, it changes to that of pure wonder. “Really?” he says in awe. “That’s so cool!”

Is this guy for real?

“Right,” she deadpans, and deciding that she wants this conversation to be over, she resolves to say that she should get going so that she doesn’t be late for school. He doesn’t stop there, though.

“I wish I could go against the laws of physics,” he says wistfully, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I mean, it would make life a lot easier. Sometimes I imagine how neat it’d be to be able to fly, to have superhuman strength… or hell, even to stretch my own body. I mean, how cool would that be? Imagine being able to stretch my arms while I played basketball. I’d be the best basketball player in the world!”

Nami can only stare at him blankly, unnerved by his behavior. It’s weird enough that he’s treating her sarcastic response with genuine curiosity, but what type of person rambles his fantasies out loud to a complete _stranger?_ Either this is some kind of joke she can’t follow, or something is just… seriously wrong with him. She has a hunch it’s the latter.

Whatever the reason; she should probably get away from him.

“You should teach me one of these days how you did that!” He says excitedly.

“Sure. Anyway, I, uh, gotta get going. School’s gonna start soon, and I don’t wanna be-”

 **“SHIT!”** he shouts all of a sudden, making her almost trip again, “Not again!” He suddenly bolts in the direction of the school, and stops only one last time before the entrance to look over his shoulder and say, “Glad to hear you’re okay, but I gotta get going!” before continuing onward.

Nami barely has any time to react. “H-hey! Your stuff is still lying here on the ground, you know!” she calls out, but he’s already in the school by the time the words come out of her mouth. She sighs in frustration.

She’s silent for a bit, trying to wrap her head around this guy. He’s clearly an idiot, something she suspected the moment he barged into her, and confirmed by his disregard for boundaries and lack of social skills. She knows that she shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but something tells her she’s not wrong. While she’s sure he’s not a… bad person, the knowledge that he doesn’t understand the concept of personal space and lacks a basic comprehension of sarcasm doesn’t make him the most clever one, either.

On the bright side, though; he didn’t seem too interested in getting to know her personally, something she’s eternally grateful for. While she knows that she’ll have to bring up her constructed upbringing to one of her peers _eventually,_ she wants to prolong the inevitable as much as possible.

Aside from that, despite his boorish behavior, he seems relatively harmless. There was no malice behind any of his actions, just obliviousness bordering stupidity. He probably won’t pose a problem to her in the future. She doubts she’ll ever get to know him more after today; his behavior, and to some degree, his appearance, indicates that he’s clearly _not_ a senior, so she won’t be seeing him in any classes with her. Not that she _wants_ to get to know him more; being associated with a person like him will only draw attention, and well, _that’s_ a big no-no.

She frowns, remembering that his stuff is still lying there on the ground next to her, and that she’s now burdened with the task of having to return it to him, meaning that another encounter will have to occur between them. She groans.

Maybe she can just leave it at the principal’s office…? Then again, that won’t do her any good, since she didn’t catch the boy’s name. She wonders; maybe she’ll find his name if she skims through some of the notebooks he dropped…?

She picks up the nearest notebook and opens the first page. The only word it accommodates is _‘History’_ , written near the bottom left. She frowns, and skims through the rest of the notebook.

His name isn’t written anywhere; the entirety of his notebook consists of history notes that she has trouble deciphering, and pages on end that consist of poorly drawn doodles. She picks up another two, checks them; the same applies.

She eyes the rest of his notebooks, and something tells her she’s not wrong to assume that they’re all like that, too; sloppy, abundant in drawings, and lacking a name.

 _Seriously… this boy…_ she thinks to herself in dismay.

Her stomach growls, and she decides that she’ll deal with this whole thing later, during school. She picks up his belongings and takes a glance at her cellphone, hoping that if she has enough time, she’ll be able to buy some breakfast at the bakery nearby. She _has_ come early, after all.

Her heart stops upon seeing the time, and before she knows it, she’s bolting toward the doorway of the school.

Breakfast will have to wait; if anything, confronting that simpleminded boy for having made her late on her first day of school is going to come first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, question; do you guys even want me to throw in a lemon? I mean, the point of the fic itself isn’t for the lemon, it can be experienced fine without a lemon... but… still… lemons usually make things more… intimate between characters, if written right. …:P I wanna hear your guys’ thoughts. 
> 
> Also, I'm a noob when it comes to formatting stuff on Ao3. Had enough trouble just adding italics and bold text, so... yeah. If anyone can link me to some tutorials or w.e, that's be nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments mean the world to me and they're always appreciated. c:


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